


Thrusting Hips and Burning Lips

by SushiOwl



Series: Assorted Scenes [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Lapdance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stripper AU</p><p>Stiles buys a bit of Derek's time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrusting Hips and Burning Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt - Hello dear, I love your writing, so I would like to send you a prompt. I hope you will feel inspired. So hm, I would like Derek with eyeliner. Stiles is intrigued. If you can fit in a stripper!Derek, that's fine too. :)
> 
> I kind of took the idea and ran with it. xD
> 
> Song - Gin Wigmore's [Kill of the Night.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lncIXl7a5fQ)

The Jungle was the swankiest strip club in all of northern Cali. It was owned by one of Stiles's high school friends, Danny. Stiles went there often as his money allowed it. Being a writer of erotica was a testy business. Sometimes he had lots of money, and sometimes he ate ramen for a month. His latest book, however, was doing great amongst influential bloggers, so the money was flowing in. Off to the Jungle he went.

All of the strippers at the Jungle were beautiful, both male and female. One of the highest paid of them was Jackson, a muscly blond that wore sports equipment as he bumped and ground against the floor, pole and happy patrons. They called him Team Captain.

Isaac was a slimmer creature with a jaw that could sculpt stone to directly juxtaposition his big, round eyes and pouty lips. He could just smile, and dollar bills would fly his way. So would panties. He looked too innocent to be taking off his clothes for money, but Danny had told Stiles once that Isaac was about as innocent as a snake in the garden. He was known as Babyface. 

Erica was a thing of beauty. She had long pale waves and a body that could twist and bend into any shape she needed it to. Stiles knew from Lydia that her private shows were something of a marvel. Stiles probably would have bought an hour of her time had she not scared the pants off of him. He had a feeling he wouldn't come out of a private room with her without teethmarks. She was called Transformita, because she could be whoever you wanted her to be.

Boyd was a thing of pure strength and grace. Clothes clung to him in a way that stitches stretched and popped, and he didn't so much as peel his clothes away and tear them from his hard muscles. He was tall, broad, and the things he could do with his butt! He was called the Mountain.

As good as these lovely people were, and oh they were good, Stiles had his eyes and heart set on one person. Derek. He was the Wolf, and he had earned that name tenfold. The way he looked at people with such fierceness in his hazel eyes, the eyes that seemed to glow in the dim, twisting light of the club. He looked at people like he wanted to eat them, like they were prey for him to sink his teeth into. He always made everyone feel like they were the center of his whole world. His eyes were that powerful. And when he smiled, just a little, the whole crowd breathed out a dreamy little sigh.

Stiles wanted have those spectacular eyes focused on him alone. That was why, with his extra money, he bought some of Derek's private time. It was his first experience having a private dance, and he probably looked far more eager than he wanted to, glancing around frantically as Danny led him back to the private room himself. 

“You know the rules, right?” Danny told him as he opened the door to a room with a crescent couch on one end, a dancing pole in the middle and a sound system off to the side. There was a table of snacks and drinks, alcoholic and non, tucked against a corner. The walls were black, and the lighting was dim.

“Uh, remind me,” Stiles said, gravitating to the couch to test its softness.

“No touching the merchandise,” Danny said with a fond roll of his eyes. “He can touch you, but you can't touch him. If you don't want him grinding up against you, tell him. Though I'm pretty sure that's exactly what you want.” He smiled as Stiles giggled like a schoolgirl. “No sexual anything, or I'll break your hands.” He shot him a grin, before he went back to the door. “Enjoy!” 

“Enjoy he says,” Stiles mumbled as he waited in the heavy silence of the room. “He ought to say 'don't come in your pants'.”

Derek came in shortly after Danny left, and Stiles hopped to his feet, nearly stumbling onto his face in his hurry. The wolf just stared at him with those sharp eyes, his coined blank expression a little ruined by the twitching of his lips. He was wearing a blank tank top and tight, dark jeans with no shoes on. In any other strip joint, Stiles would have been worried about what he was walking on, but Danny ran a clean ship.

“Hi,” Stiles said witheringly with a little wave, wanting to promptly punch himself in the face. “I'm Stiles.”

“Derek,” he said, stepping over to the sound system and scrolling through the iPod there. “You wanted a lap dance, right?”

“Y-yeah, I mean, if that's okay,” Stiles blathered, and Derek looked at him over his shoulder. “I mean, if it's not too much trouble.”

One of Derek's glorious and thick eyebrows went up. “You're the one paying for it,” he said, setting the iPod on its dock.

A guitar wailed through the air, followed by the deep, thrumming beat and Gin Wigmore's unique voice as she began to sing Kill Of The Night. Derek began to move immediately, his hips rolling in a sensual circle and swaying like the sexiest pendulum in mankind. _The danger is I'm dangerous._ the song crooned as Derek drew closer and Stiles pressed back into the couch. _And I might just tear you apart. Oh, ah, oh._

Derek put one knee on the the cushion on one side of Stiles's legs, sliding his other up as he pressed his weight down onto him. Stiles let out a little noise, his arms lifting as if to set on Derek's thick, meaty thighs before he remembered Danny's words and gripped the back of the couch instead. Derek notices, that smile on his lips getting just a little wider as he took Stiles's wrists and led his hands to rest on his hips.

“But, Danny said—“ Stiles tried to say.

“I won't tell him if you won't,” Derek replied, setting his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Stiles's head. Then he started to move again, rocking his hips down in a way the rubbed over Stiles's crotch in such a tortuous manner.

 _Now you're mine._ Gin Wigmore sang on as Derek pumped his hips, leaning back and dropping his head to show of his long throat. _But what do I do with you, boy?_ One of Derek's hands slid down his chest, thumb catching over his nipple on its descent. _I'll take your heart._ He scraped his nails down his abs, lifting his head to pin Stiles with those wild eyes of his. _To kick around as a toy._ He popped the button on his jeans, and Stiles couldn't help his moan, his cock hard against Derek's ass.

Derek smiled, lifting up onto his knees and swaying from side to side as his fingers trailed over the hem of his jeans, pulling down the zip so slow and teasing that Stiles found himself licking his lips. Derek slid off the couch onto his feet, swinging his hips in a circle to put his back to Stiles. _The danger is I'm dangerous._ Derek slowly pushed down his jeans, canting his hips with the music as he did. _And I might just tear you apart. Oh._

Derek's jeans were moving down his thighs, and Stiles's eyes were on his ass. He was wearing a black thong, and oh how Stiles long to take that ass in his hands and squeezed. Derek smiled at him over his shoulder as he kicked his jeans away. He took Stiles's knees in hand forcing his legs apart and he pressed back, sliding his ass over the rock hardness of Stiles's cock. 

_I'm gonna catch ya. I'm gonna get ya, get ya. Oh, ah, oh!_ Stiles watched the place where they were join, wondering how someone could make their ass do that. It was like a living, thrusting thing all its own. Stiles's eyes moved up Derek's back. It was sinful how his narrow waist turned into such a broad expanse. He licked his lips as the muscles moved over his tattoo—a triskele, he'd looked it up. _I wanna taste the way that you bleed. Oh._

 _I'm gonna catch ya. I'm gonna get ya, get ya. Oh, ah, oh!_ Derek all of the sudden turned, straddling him again, and Stiles's eyes immediately dropped down. He could see his cock this close, a bobbing weight held by thin black fabric. His cock was pushing at the thong, ready to fall out of it at a moments notice, and Stiles could catch glimpses of the head of it as it bobbed back and forth. _I wanna taste the way that you bleed. Oh._

 _This is a bad town for such a pretty face._ Stiles dug his fingers into Derek's hips as he felt the warmth in him boiling, coming to a point where he was going to burst. He looked up, panting through open lips to find Derek staring down at him through sharp hooded eyes. _This is a bad town for such a pretty face._ He wanted to kiss those lips, to feel his sharp stubble against his cheek and chin. He wanted him, oh how he wanted him. Derek was all he wanted in the world. _This is a bad town for such a pretty face._

“Fuck,” Stiles gasped as his muscles started to tighten.

Derek grabbed his head, pulling him into a hard, searing kiss, and it was all Stiles could do to clutch at him and come in his pants. He drew back as Stiles panted, watching him closely and smiling softly as his hips settled while the song wound down. 

_You're my kill of the night._

Stiles felt giddy, grinning up at him and totally uncaring about the cooling wet patch in his pants. Those eyes. Oh, those eyes. Stiles could stare for hours. Wait. Stiles looked closely, then leaned in to look even closer. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”

Derek just blinked blandly at him, but there was definitely a twist to his lips that betrayed the affirmative.

“Really? You're wearing guyliner,” Stiles said, giggling.

“That's a bit sexist since it was Erica that did it,” Derek said, though he didn't sound too upset. 

Stiles just smiled. “Can I buy another dance from you sometime?”

Derek smiled back, the wolf in his gaze gentled. “Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> My prompts are open! Feel free to hit me up at my [Tumblr.](http://thesushiowl.tumblr.com/post/70450587133/hello-i-am-taking-teen-wolf-prompts-im-down-for)


End file.
